JLETTERS OF A CONTINENTAL TOURIST. 369 



hope of obtaining promotion, a hope which is never disappointed if 

 the advancement be merited by good conduct and ability. Indeed, 

 the only path to preferment in the army of France is through the 

 ranks, or owing to successful studies at the military schools ; and I 

 am told that a son of the duke of Montesquieu is now a corporal, 

 though it was confessed that he was more frequently seen walking 

 arm in arm with the colonel of the regiment, his cousin, than doing 

 the duty allotted to his military rank. The fact, however, remains, 

 and these regulations, together with the mode of recruiting by con- 

 scription, much improve the general materiel of the army, at the same 

 time that they lower the standard of birth and education among the 

 officers. 



Scarcely a public-house from St. Malo to Lyons, a distance of 

 nearly 500 miles, is unadorned with a tree, or part of a tree, 

 hanging from the end of a pole for a sign. One need not go far for 

 an explanation of the adage, " Good wine needs no bush." 



A few miles from Lyons we had the pleasure of ascending a moun- 

 tain of about four miles in length. Why they do not carry a new 

 road along the banks of the Saone, round the base of the hill, I can- 

 not conceive. But they prefer killing their cattle and wearying their 

 passengers by the old Roman road to the trouble and expense of a 

 new one. The French want a reform in these matters sadly ; lighter 

 coaches and level roads would increase the speed and lessen the in- 

 convenience of travelling, without augmenting the expense or dimi- 

 nishing the profit. 



The women in the neighbourhood of Lyons wear straw hats, with 

 brims a foot or fifteen inches broad, which are by no means unbecom- 

 ing, and are well adapted to defend them from the scorching rays of 

 a southern sun. Far different is the coiffure of the Bourgignonnes, 

 who stick a pigmy black hat on the front of their white cap, fasten it 

 with black ribbons behind the head, and allow the strings to hang 

 down their backs like pigtails. 



I lodged at the hotel de 1' Europe, which is said to be the first in 

 Lyons, and, if this be true, bad is the best. But this town is little vi- 

 sited by the English, and our notions of comfort and decency are so 

 utterly different from those of foreigners that there is little cause for 

 astonishment in the apparent deficiency of the appliances of domestic 

 life. The hotel is situated near the grand square, which is spoken 

 of by the Lyonese as one of the wonders of the world. It is certainly 

 a considerable open space, surrounded by houses of no sort of beauty, 

 the lower story occupied by very mean -looking shops, and one side 

 planted with a few trees. In the centre is an equestrian statue of 

 Louis XIV., the inscription on which explains itself. 



LUDOVICI MAGNI 

 STATUAM EQUESTREM 

 INIQUIS TEMPORIEUS 



DlSJECTAM 



ClVITAS LUGDUNENSIUM 

 REGISQUE RHODANICA 



INSTAURAVERUNT 

 ANNoM.D.CCCXXV. 



